The Alchemist Adventures
by Jabbawack
Summary: When Victor visits his brother, only to find him gone, he discovers his brother's personal journal, in-which sets him on an epic quest to find and rescue his brother. Read and Review!
1. Prologue: the Journal

It had been a while since I had visited my brother, Lars. I had not seen him anywhere around town lately. In fact, it had been well over two weeks since we had last spoken. I worried about him. I know things had a tendency to go wrong when Lars was left to himself. Mother had advised me to keep him close before she passed on. I was making my own way in a life of laboring, but he was stuck in his foolish ambitions. Fearing what trouble he'd gotten himself into, I decided to pay him a visit.

With trepidation I knocked at his door. The sky showed a brilliant array of violets and reds. Dusk was soon upon us. There was no reply to my knocks, so I quietly opened the door and strode into Lars' living space. Everything was meticulously nestled in its proper place. The shelves my brother kept lined with books and journals were in neat order. The room was especially dark save for the dim sunlight from the doorway and there was nary a sound at all. I quickly searched the house and, turning up no sign of Lars, began to worry. Where could he be?

I began to leave when I noticed a small book lying on a table. I picked up it and inspected it. It was Lars' journal. Opening it, I saw that his last entry was dated eleven days prior. I read it, hoping it would hold some clue to his whereabouts:

"Borrowing that book was the best idea I've have yet! So many secrets are contained within its pages. I read it from cover to cover over the past two nights, and its insights into the arcane arts are absolutely breathtaking. The binding power of its spells should be precisely the thing I need to breathe life into my creations. Tomorrow I will set out. I do wonder if I should inform Victor. Oh, but he always frowns upon my experiments. Ah, I've just the plan. I'll go before first light, so I can make my return trip before nightfall, my successful production in hand."

Set out to where? And arcane arts? Magic was dangerous to experiment with; alchemy stations were few and far between and supervised by experienced magicians. If Lars was working alone, he could very well hurt himself. I grabbed up the journal and returned home. I had to look for him. I hastily packed up a bit of food, my sword for protection if needed, and the journal. According to the last log, it was no more than part of a day's journey from town. I would hopefully be able to find more direction from the journal as I went along.

I left my home, stopping in front of the temple. I knelt in a silent prayer for a moment, then set off at a quickened pace, torch in one hand, journal in the other... 


	2. The Lonesome Gnome

Hastened further down the murky cobble stone paths, I noticed a figure gradually nearing toward my sight. At first I thought it could have been Lars on his way back from his 'trip', but then I observed the figure to be large and over-shadowing in the moonlight fog. If it was Lars, I would have surely wittnessed him gaining much more weight for a diminutive fellow like himself. However, I shielded my garish torch-light from the fog so I could see a greater distance; the light reflected upon the opaque fog making it more or less, a giant ball of blindage.

The apprehensive figure stepped even closer and I noticed two more waning out from the trees alongside the abandon stoney path. I stopped in my tracks. At first I thought "thieves", but then as the fog gently cleared I could make out a familiar face that made me feel placid. The larger man, Hunkar, was the innkeeper from The Lonesome Gnome, a tavern in which the local town guard would pig-out after their shifts and get blind drunk, only to do the same thing the next sun down. The Lonesome Gnome was also a good place to find adventuring parties and stop to plan your next move; I was considering stopping there on my way passing through. The other two men I hadn't recognized though. One man, looking a tad angered in his face, stood atleast seven-foot tall, with a long beard almost reminding me of a dwarf who had been tortured so much it literally stretched his body parellel. He looked very imprudent. The other man was a short guy with a smaller beard and carried some sort of patched pack on his back. It looked as if it was full of books or some-sort of reading materials. He wasn't so angry looking, like the larger man, but he looked like he knew the world inside and out.

Hunkar and I stood in the dark talking for almost a straight fourty-five minutes; I was becoming late on my journey and had to start moving again soon. Just as I was about to say my good-byes and head off, Hunkar caught me and told me I could stop at The Lonesome Gnome and stay the night free of charge, given the current circemstances. Even though I was feeling a bit scruples, how could I say no? A free bed, free meal, and a good nights rest; the only thing I had to worry about was the ale...

I finally made it to The Lonesome Gnome and had taken a couple steps inside, hanging at the bar. I figured it would be a bad idea to get too drunk tonight, so I only stuck with one teeming tankard of Hunkar's finest ale. It opiated me. I looked to my right and noticed a cloaked man sitting in the corner eye-balling me every chance he can get. He have me a very deplorable feeling... I asked Hunkar about him, but he just answered with a solicitous tone that he was just some adventurer who came in here once a month at every end of the month; today was the 31st. The cloaked stranger started to give me a very uncomfortable feelings so I decided to head to my room and turn in for the night.

Indolently arriving in my sullen room I noticed it was very simple and lacked in furniture. It only came with one bed, a storage chest, some amenities, and a covered chamber pot. I lugged my packings into the chest and precariously fell onto the hard rubicund bed. It felt like the sheets themselves were made of wood. I didn't complain though; it was free and I had other things on my mind. For a moment I thought on what Lars could be up to. Within moments, a subliminal sleep swifty over-took me... 


	3. the Dream

I was always told to be back before night fall. When I was younger, my roaming was not far from the ranch where we lived: I'd splash in the brook and hunt frogs and newts; exploring through the forest that surrounded us on three sides, deep within lay a river, and beyond that, it was Elf territory. No human ventured there without good business. From the north, the plain stretched wide and wild, bordered by mountains that wore mist like cloaks.

As I grew, Lars and I would ride our horses out to the town. He was a few years older than I, and together we would climb into the mountains and scout out caves and crevices, and follow the brook to the river and catch fish. Lars swears he saw a Nymph there once, but I find that hard to believe.

I was well liked in the town, being the son of the Peacekeeper, he whose job it was to settle disputes between the races of Human, Elf, Dwarf and the rest of the nine-yards. Mother used to send me out to sell the horses when they were young, and I quickly got to know some of the wealthier clients who came to purchase horses from us. Especially the daughter of the Lord who lived beyond the mountains. The Lord of our town had a daughter too, and Lars was head over heels for her. Rumour whispered that she was in fact, Half-Elven. Twice we tried to sneak into the big house, that is nearly a castle, just to catch a glimpse of her, but twice we failed and had to make a quick retreat.

One evening in the very late autumn, when I was out with Lars, daring each other to cross the bridge into the Elves' lands, the Narvinye Forest, which lies beyond the river. Lars had tried, but was suddenly overcome by a fit of nervousness and ran back, giggling. For a boy in his seventeenth year, Lars is very childish sometimes. The wind was quiet, yet constant, and sometimes there would be a larger gust which sent the leaves, that still clung to the trees, shaking and quivering.

My turn. I ran across the bridge and walked slowly to the gateway of trees, my heart pounding in my ears. I thought I heard another noise, a stronger battering on the earth. I thought nothing of it, until I noticed the fragments of rock and bark on the ground trembling. I turned and squinted across the bridge, but darkness had fallen swiftly during our dares. I turned back to the entrance to the forest, and crept further, down the slope, and peered through the corridor of trees.

At once, smoke filled my lungs, and I choked and coughed. I yanked my tunic neck over my mouth, and squinted into the smog. Lars, wondering what had happened, ran to join me. He too covered his mouth and nose and together we tried to make sense of the chaos.

Fire had broken out in the glade; I could see the orange tongues of flame eating away at the fallen trees and simple tree houses. Three tall beautiful Elves lay sprawled on the ground near us. Lars and I exchanged glances. Two were dead, their eyes glassed and staring, their expression one of agonizing pain. But a third clung to life, her chest rising and falling slightly under the translucent fabric of her long tunic. Lars immediately ran over to her and I followed, dread forming a solid leaden ball in the pit of my stomach. Together we half dragged, half carried her to the shadows of the trees, as with a sickening creak and crunch, another house toppled over in flames.

Lars seized her shoulders and spoke quickly and urgently, 'What happened? Why's it all on fire?' The Elf winced as a fresh wave of agony swept through her, and I saw that horrific burns covered her back and legs. I swallowed bile.

'He did it...' she murmured, her dulcet voice weak with pain, 'Such power in one so young. We held him captive because we thought he kidnapped Keita's daughter... Which he did, I'm sure...' She broke off and gasped in anguish, shifting on the ground in her suffering.

'Who?' pressed Lars. The Elf shuddered, and opened her mouth to answer, but her life had run dry. Her throat bobbed as she struggled to breathe, then she went limp in death, the name of the enemy gone with her. Lars let her slide out of his grip. He looked at me, and I could see the horror shimmering in his eyes. 'We have to tell someone!' hissed Lars. I couldn't speak.

More hideous noises came from the smoky depths of the glade, screams and cries, and I grabbed Lars tunic and yanked him back into the shadows of the trees and ferns. We crouched low in the undergrowth. As we watched, deeply uncomfortable with the Elf's body, no more than a meter away from us, I saw two more Elves leap from a flat roof of a burning house, one holding a snapped longbow in his hand. They landed expertly, cat-like, and ran past us towards the bridge. Another figure appeared where the two had fled, a Human figure, standing on the roof the house. His layered dark-coloured robes flapped in the wind, and long white-blonde hair danced around him. He looked like a peddler from the market, but I guessed this was the one the Elf had tried to tell us about. The tree the house perched in shuddered and groaned, and it fell in shower of dead leaves. The young man balanced perfectly, riding the falling tree and standing with a satisfied stance in the debris.

As we watched, struck dumb by his presence, he raised both arms. His sleeves fell back to reveal slender hands clenched into fists. He began to chant, in a low powerful voice. The words lanced into my mind, piercing my thoughts. It hurt like a burn. I pressed my hands to my ears to try and block it out. Lars beside me seemed not to hear it; he was staring at the figure with terrified fascination.

The sky above the man began to boil with clouds, thick purple, twisting like enraged snakes. I wanted to run as far away as possible, run back to my mother's arms on the ranch, but my boots seemed to have melted to the earth. Behind me, Lars nerve failed as he broke and ran. I heard the thud of his boots receding down the path, but I could not move. I was staring at the man, his slight form standing so powerful against the swirling mass of clouds and furious winds. My hair flopped free from the bindings, falling across my face.

He turned and looked me in the eyes. I was helpless; paralyzed by the sheer intensity of his glance. His hair whipped across his face, and the corners of his mouth twitched in a pale face like nothing I had ever seen before. I was so terrified I could barely breathe. He seized my gaze in his and chanted something again. The waves of syllables hit me one after the other like strokes from the flat of a blade. I fell to my knees, clutching my head. I was repeating the name of my deity over and over in a rapid monotone, but the last thing I remember was pitching forwards into the warm darkness of unconsciousness... 


	4. The Girl: Blueberry'Mango

I couldn't sleep for long. The sound of trees rustling in the wind echoed through the air as the silence of night set in around the tavern. I stared up at the eyes of the stars near the open window in my crudely made room. It was so strange how things had turned out. Not in a million years did I ever think that I would be out on a journey like this- ...after my own brother, Lars. It's so courageous and powerful on what I'm willing to do for Lars, I also find it irrestsistable to just decline this opportunity. I will set out to the greatest lengths of the world just to finish what has been started. Nothing can ever stop me.

That's when I heard it. An impaling sound of a knock on my room door. Who could be up at this hour? What business would they have with me anyway?

I steadied myself towards the old splintered frame of the door and gently creeped the door open, "Yes?" I said in a very hushful voice.

No one was there. I find it odd that someone could knock on my door in the middle of the night and not even leave a sign or sound of them. I began to question my own sanity and closed the door shut. I made my way back to the window and began to close it when I noticed a figure approaching the roof; a dark-enigmatic hooded figure at a pace, shimmied up the side of the tavern and propelled into my window.

I didn't hestitate to grab my dagger out of my chest at an instance, but then I felt no need for it- when I noticed the already hostile one pointed at my neck. I felt though I was going to die... but it was just a feeling. I dropped my dagger in a sense of defeat and the masked stranger threw me to my hands and knees and told me not to say a word. I listened.

About three-minutes later, I heard footsteps coming up the tavern stairs at a slow pace. They sounded heavy and determined. The footsteps stopped directly infront of my door and stood there for very long and steifling moments. I neither spoke nor made any sign of movement for moments on-in. Finally, the foot steps went back down the stairs and that was the last I heard of them for now.

The cloaked figure, who seemed to be of female, came to me and gently lay an elegant warm kiss upon the cold of my left cheek. It felt illustrious to my heart. I caught a scent of blueberry-mango as she fluttered up onto the window seal.

"Wait! Who are you?" I asked just before she was about to leave.

She looked back at me and I could only make out the bottom part of her face. She spoke in the kindest of voices, "Ella". Then she was gone. She sprung out of the tavern window and disappeared into the cool night air.

I couldn't take anymore of this waiting, I have to get on my way. I can feel the excitement running a course through my body. I needed to get going and I feel well rested to do so.

I set out shortly after packing my things and paying off the tavern keeper; It was time I got a move on the road... 


End file.
